The Darkness in the Second Night
by nelliesbones
Summary: Nights are dark, but people say, the darkest place is always before dawn... This is comfort and love after "The Hole in the Heart". Brennan and Booth. Warmhearted and M for a reason.
1. Night

_This is Bones, Baby! It's been a while, and I missed them. _

THE DARKNESS IN THE SECOND NIGHT

I. Night

Nights are honest.

She had always thought so.

It's easy in the bright daylight, hiding in the disguise of sunshine. Hiding your fear, hiding your longing. The edges are sharper at night, everything's more clear.

Isn't it funny how you know that time is passing even though you're asleep? How the very same hours stretch like eternities when you're lying awake, unable to succumb to slumber? She didn't know if being in a coma was like sleeping.

He should know, but he'd never shared that insight with her.

For three nights, she had been sitting next to his bed, guarding him. Tasting the sourness of fear and sleep-deprivation in her mouth. Facing him and facing a kind of truth she wasn't ready for.

_Do they lead separate lives or is it a single life shared?_

If only he wouldn't die. If only... She might be brave enough to live, then.

Nights are sticky in Indonesia.

Wide-awake in the darkness, listening to the never-sleeping jungle, she had been thinking about starry desert skies and big bruised hearts. How much more could he take before it would be too much? How much longer would he wait before he'd waited for too long?

Longing took a seat next to her, caressing her hair, whispering softly.

Nights are lonely.

_People assume that when you're alone, you must be lonely. Like most assumptions, it's erroneous. _

But if you are, indeed, lonely, the time between dusk and dawn refuses to pass. Burning the midnight oil in the lab was easier, so much easier than hugging her pillow while he was at home with someone else; someone he could love so easily, someone who wasn't her.

Nights are tempting.

She wouldn't have fallen into his kiss on a sunny Tuesday afternoon, but at night, in the twilit safety of his bedroom, there wasn't a road except for that one leading right into his arms. Giving in, finally, if only for one night.

_What kind of person am I?_

He knew the answer to that question, had somehow known it since the very first moment. And when he peeled away the layers of her clothes, the very same clothes he had given to her just hours ago, he knew how to do that as well. Knew how to kiss her, how to make her tremble.

She stopped crying just as tears formed in his eyes, and then they met for the first time ever with nothing but night air separating them.

-BONES-

Seeley Booth knew things. He might not be a pool of science like his partner and he didn't posses a multitude of random facts like Mr. Nigel-Murray had, but he knew other stuff. He knew that oatmeal tasted better with brown sugar, he knew his Flyers stats, he could fix a pipe.

Then there was Brennan, and he had _known_.

Rationally speaking, it made no sense, no sense at all. The idea of the two of them romantically involved was ludicrous. They were like a mismatched pair of socks. Still... Booth knew when she was sad, and comforting her had always been an imperative. For some reason, his arms were meant to hold her and something profound inside of him was always gravitating towards her.

Of course, that had been before.

Before he had gambled and lost, before Maluku and Afghanistan, before Hannah.

He had vowed to never get too close to her again, but like a moth to a flame, he was drawn to her.

And then last night...

Booth swallowed hard, as he tried to grasp the magnitude of the last twenty-four hours. Vincent Nigel-Murray was dead, killed by Broadsky. Broadsky was in custody, captured by him. He had slept with Temperance Brennan.

And suddenly he didn't know anything anymore. She had come to him in grief, but had she found more than solace?

He blinked hard, trying to shake off fatigue and something else entirely.

_You put the lime in the coconut, you drank them both up..._

The silly tune was flowing out of his mouth, and everything about this was surreal. The simple wooden casket, the potted plant adorning it. He had come here straight after hours in the interrogation room, and Booth wished he had taken a shower beforehand. As if that would change anything. As if it would make the English squint less dead or Jacob Broadsky less guilty.

_I said doctor, ain't there nothing I could take..._

The mental image of Mr. Nigel-Murray wearing Brennan's iguana as a hat popped up, and Booth almost smiled. Maybe, this was an appropriate send-off after all, and maybe "Put the Lime in the Coconut" truly was the best song for the occasion.

He could feel the sadness in the late April air, but there was so much more as well. Camaraderie, friendship, loyalty. And maybe, just maybe... he didn't dare to finish the thought, but his tired eyes flickered to his partner, finding her already looking at him. Yeah, maybe...

Booth thought about the way she had come undone in his arms the previous night, thought how comfort had turned into something else entirely.

Now there were other things that he knew. How warm she was, how soft. How she had welcomed him in the valley of her thighs, how he had made her gasp. She had moved him; moved him beyond anything he had ever experienced before, and he was so tired that he felt utterly defenseless against the onslaught of memories.

The melody faded out, as the limousine with Mr. Nigel-Murray's remains drove into the night, and suddenly Booth could sense her presence next to him. Without preamble, Brennan looped her arm through his, and warmth spread out in his chest, covering the exhaustion. He inhaled deeply.

"Booth... I don't want to assume anything. I..."

He wore his heart on his sleeve, as he cut into her hesitation.

"Assume."

A smile lit up her face, if only for a moment, and he held his breath while he watched his partner gathering her courage.

"I... I don't want to be alone tonight. And I don't want you to be alone. You must be tired, Booth... I know I am. Come home with me. Please?"

Her voice was hoarse, as she was walking on unfamiliar territory, and it tugged at his heartstrings.

"Yes."

Sometimes it was that simple.

Relief flooded her face, but then her brow furrowed and she tilted her head.

"I'm sorry about Broadsky. I know that he was your friend once."

"Yes, and Vincent was yours."

She put her head on his shoulder, and the gesture sent a rush of longing through his system. He inhaled deeply, reaching for her hand on his arm, covering it with hers. With closed eyes, he lowered his head until he could feel the silk of her hair underneath his cheek.

"I'm so tired," he finally confessed, and she burrowed into him just a tad more.

"Let's go, Booth."

The night was their friend, and they found mostly empty streets on the way to her apartment. She was driving, but at every red light, she cast a glance at him, taking in bits and bobs. His eyes were closed, his trenchcoat slightly crumpled. She could smell him, the scent of a long day covered up by deodorant. Brennan found herself reacting to his scent, and not so long ago, she would have blamed it on pheromones alone. It was more, though, and despite the fact that she couldn't prove it, she knew it to be true.

Two plus two equals four. Booth and Brennan equals one.

Just five more miles, then two.

Booth could feel her watchful eyes on him, and after the chaos of the day, her concern caressed him like a gentle breeze. This was the woman who had shattered his heart, and the power she held over him still made him dizzy. She had told him she couldn't change, but then she had done it anyways. Not that he had ever wanted her to change in the first place.

The moon was their only witness, as she parked the car, as she took his hand and guided him to her building.

A few steps, an elevator, locks, and then the quiet air of her apartment greeted them. With closed eyes, he halted for a moment, absorbing the peace, and he could hear her rummaging around. Finally, her soft voice was back next to him.

"Give me your coat."

Accepting her help, he shuffled it off. His shoes came next, then his jacket. Her small hands were back to loosen his tie, and he let her do it.

"Do you want to take a shower?"

He nodded, and she took his hand, tugging him towards her bathroom. He stopped in the entrance and watched her. She was opening dressers and drawers, providing him with towels and shower essentials. His noticed his usual brands of shampoo and shaving gel, and tenderness hit him hard. Booth swallowed.

"I don't have spare clothes."

"I do."

She left the room, only to come back a few moments later with a pile of soft cotton in her arms. A shirt, boxers, sweatpants. Booth ogled the garments and arched a puzzled eyebrow.

"They're my size."

"I know," she just said, and then she was gone, leaving him alone with the reassuring feeling of being taken care of.

-BONES-

From the other room, Brennan could hear the rushing sound of water, as he started the shower. So many feelings and thoughts were whirling around in her head, and she tried to make sense of them, as she shed her own clothes hastily.

He was naked now, she was very aware of that fact. Something stirred low in her belly, as she imagined the water cascading down his body. But it was more than that. She hoped that the water could wash away not only the grubby feeling of an exhausting day, but that it could cleanse him, them. Could mark a new beginning.

Last night... So far they hadn't really talked about last night, and while the occasion for their encounter was heart-crushing, the act itself had been anything but. Never before had she felt so connected to another human being, so cherished.

Brennan was beyond losing him and she hoped... yes, she hoped.

Hoped for a different outcome.

She slipped into her PJs and brushed her hair. The sound of the rushing water accompanied her, as she padded into the kitchen on bare feet, as she fetched milk, cocoa and whipped cream.

Intimacy. That was another part of the things she felt. It had been ages since someone else had taken a shower in her apartment, and even then it had merely been practical, had never elicited feelings of domesticity.

The shower stopped, just as she put two mugs into the microwave.

Now he was toweling himself dry. Brennan swallowed hard. Was he wondering about the garments? Was it weird that she had bought clothes and toiletries for him? She had purchased them just last month, after the blizzard and their heart-to-heart talk. They were palpable proof of the commitment she was ready to make, and she hoped he would understand her intentions.

The microwave peeped, and she retrieved the mugs. Brennan added whipped cream, and just as she dusted it with cinnamon, she could feel his presence behind her. Taking another deep breath, she turned around. No more hiding.

His hair was still wet, his feet bare, and the clothes looked soft and cozy. Then she met his eyes and fell into a pool of unguarded hazel-brown. He was here, he was truly here with her.

A heartbeat went by in silence, then another one. Eventually, his lips curved up just the slightest bit.

"You bought stuff for me?"

"I did."

The smile deepened.

"Thank you."

"I... hoped."

He was waiting for more, but when she didn't continue, Booth understood that the sentence was already complete. She was hoping.

Nobody moved a limb, but nonetheless, another heartbeat brought them closer together.

"I made hot chocolate. You want one?"

His gaze fell to the mugs on the counter behind her, and only then did he notice the comforting scent of chocolate and cinnamon. He nodded against the lump in his throat, accepting the beverage; accepting so much more.

"Do you want to sit down?"

He shrugged in an indecisive manner, but none of them moved, as the minutes ticked away and they were standing side by side, sharing hot chocolate and silence. He noticed her feet, and the sight of her pink toenails tugged at his heart. She was wearing pale blue PJs that seemed to be a size too big and impossibly soft, but he couldn't really tell without touching them. His fingers itched to gain that knowledge, but for now, he curled them around his warm mug.

With every sip he took, a bit of the tension of the day left him.

Next to him, she opened her mouth to speak, but closed it again. He tilted his head, trying to catch her eyes.

"Bones?"

"Booth, about last night... I feel the need to inform you that while we don't have to talk about it, I'm not avoiding the topic on purpose. I don't want to push you, but I'm not backpedaling as well. I'm just... here I guess." She laughed out, the throaty kind of laughter he loved so much. "Wow, I'm really bad at this."

And his heart flew to her. Placing his mug on the counter, Booth turned towards his partner.

"No, you're not. Bones, you're doing it just right. I admire your courage. Your strength..."

Strength and imperviousness.

And her heart flew to him. With shaking hands, she put her mug next to his, and then she was in his arms, finally again. A shuddered breath was released into her hair, and she wrapped her arms firmly around his midsection.

Within seconds, Booth had confirmed that her PJs were indeed as soft as assumed, but that she, Brennan herself, was even softer. Her skin, her hair, her curves. She was everything familiar, everything comfortable and he squeezed her probably a tad too much, but she didn't complain.

And, again, minutes ticked away, and he was just holding her – or was she holding him? Somehow, it didn't even matter anymore.

Eventually, he had to yawn, and she chuckled into his neck. Pursing her lips, she kissed the tender skin of his throat, before disentangling herself from him. He grumbled in protest, but then her fingers slipped through his.

"You have to sleep, Booth. And so do I."

Another time, hesitation made an appearance, as his eyes flickered to her couch, and for once, she understood all the things he wasn't saying. Ever so slightly, Brennan shook her head.

"Tell me you want to sleep on the couch, and I make you a bed. Otherwise..."

Her voice trailed off, and he brought their joined hands to his face, brushing his lips over her knuckles.

"_Otherwise_, please. I want otherwise."

She smiled, and he followed her, as she switched off lamps and closed blinds. One more time, she took him to her bathroom, providing him with a toothbrush, and side by side, they prepared for the night. The scent of mint enriched the air, as they brushed their teeth, and then he lingered while she washed her face, scrubbing away the remains of make-up. The sight of her so young and undisguised went straight to his chest.

He recognized the scent of her lotion, had found traces of it on her skin so many times. A smile appeared. As new as this was, it was familiar as well.

Another yawn stretched his face, and she regarded him.

"Are you ready?"

He nodded, following her to the bed, waiting patiently, while she removed pillows and covers. Her sheets looked exquisite and expensive, but he was so tired that he was beyond wondering how he fit in. Tonight, he just did. And maybe even tomorrow.

He slipped under the covers, just as she turned off the light. In the darkness surrounding them, he could hear her breathing.

"My Bones," he murmured, and she inched closer, wrapping herself completely around him.

"I'm here," she whispered, and something deep within clenched and unclenched.

"Tomorrow," he breathed, and it was both a question and a promise.

She cradled him in her arms and placed a soft kiss on top of his head. And another one.

"Yes, tomorrow."

-BONES-

Nights are dark, but people say, the darkest place is always before dawn.

To be continued...


	2. Morning

_Thank you for your kind words! So glad to know people are still out there and loving Bones._

II. Morning

Nights are dark, but people say, the darkest place is always before dawn.

Tonight, the darkness couldn't bother them, and no nightmares intruded their nocturnal embrace. They were as safe as two people can be with each other, and just after the darkest hour had passed and the first pink could be spotted in the skies, Booth opened his eyes to the sight of his partner holding him in sleep.

For a moment, time stopped and he was spellbound, but then the memories came flooding back. There had been sadness and pain, there had been comfort. He still felt raw somehow, but it was a brand-new day. He shifted until he was lying beside Brennan rather than using her as a pillow, studying her in the twilight of early dawn.

Her cheeks were rosy, her lips slightly parted. Unruly bangs were framing her face, and she was so beautiful that he could hardly breathe. Except that he could. In and out.

Lifting his hand, he brushed a few silky strands out of her face.

Booth knew that he loved her; loved her with every fiber of his being. He had known when he had promised to never let her fall, he had known when he had asked her to give this a shot. However, he had never seen it more clearly than right now.

Lowering his nose, he breathed slowly, inhaling her early morning scent, and then his lips caressed her cheeks, her eyelids. Just as he was wondering if he was overstepping his boundaries, he sensed movement underneath his lips.

Temperance Brennan was awake.

He paused for a moment, but when she didn't pull away, his lips brushed over her skin again. She sighed, so he did it once more, this time closer to her lips. And closer. And even closer until, finally, he could feel her mouth underneath his. Like rose petals, only warmer, he thought, but then she responded to his kiss, and every idea about roses left his mind.

Her lips opened, letting him in, and there was only Brennan.

There was Brennan in front of a shabby pool hall, tasting like tequila, Brennan with her arm in a sling and two forks, Brennan with a red bobble hat. There were Jasper the Pig, Smurfette and two becoming one. There were dances and lunches, days that had broken his heart and days that hadn't.

Without realizing it, Booth had rolled on top of her, burying her underneath his feelings, and she was still kissing him.

Because he might see their past and future, but so did she.

They were tangled in tenderness, as they finally broke apart, panting for air, and when he opened his eyes, he found her already looking at him; looking straight into him.

"I still want thirty, forty, fifty years," he finally managed to say.

"I know," came her reply, but this time it didn't sound sad, sounded sincere instead.

"But most of all, I want you, Bones. I want whatever you're willing to give. And if I can only have you in tiny pieces, I'll take them."

She laughed out, and it sounded so carefree, so young.

"You don't have to cut me into pieces."

He opened his mouth, but she silenced him with her full hand on his lips.

"I get it, Booth, everything you're saying. And you're right, nobody can promise forever, but," she shrugged adorably, "it still _feels_ as if I could. That's probably enough for you, isn't it? Booth, I love you. You know that, right?"

He was speechless, was motionless as well, and finally she remembered to remove her hand from his mouth.

"Say something."

Holding her breath, she awaited his response, but then his lips crashed onto hers, and he was everywhere again, kissing her, touching her, feeling her. She could hear a sob, could hear laughter, and it could have been utterly confusing, except that it wasn't. It was messy and irrational and wonderful.

There were tears in his eyes, when he looked at her again, but they seemed to be happy tears, for there was a light on his face that she hadn't seen in a long time.

"I love you, Bones. So, so much. I have loved you for so long..."

Now it was her turn to sob, but he was there again, catching her and then some, and when he kissed her anew, it was gentler, slower.

Deeper.

He was kissing her with lips and tongues and hands, was soothing her just as much as he was arousing her, and it didn't take long until her whole body was humming pleasantly.

Her hands dove under his shirt, tugging not so gently at the superfluous garment, tugging until he had to laugh at her impatience. He helped her to strip off the shirt, and then her hands were flying over his skin, memorizing his structure. He was strong but smooth at the same time, and she couldn't stop looking at him because he was so damn perfect.

"Your structure..." she managed to utter before his kisses distracted her anew, and then she forgot about words altogether, as his hands made contact with her bare skin, cupping her breasts underneath her clothes.

"So beautiful," he said, and she nodded wildly.

"Yes. You!"

He laughed out, grazing her nipple with his rough thumb, eliciting a gasp.

"No, Bones. You."

Then _he_ was the one tugging at _her_ clothes, and after a few ungraceful moments of haste, they finally met each other skin to skin.

Ivory and bronze; reason and faith.

He pushed the covers aside to look at her in the first light of the new day, studying her with burning intensity until she had to avert her eyes in an uncharacteristic display of shyness. It was almost too much, his adoration, but at the same time, she wanted more and even more of it.

"I'm in awe," he finally said, and his voice was so dear and sincere that she dared to meet his eyes. Eventually, her lips curved up, and shyness vanished into thin air, as she stretched out in front of him.

"It's just a body," she said, but he laughed out, shaking his head while looking at her – a human piece of art splayed out on expensive linen.

"Believe me, Bones, there's nothing 'just' about your body."

His hand cupped her knee, and with infinite gentleness, he let his fingernails graze her skin. She shivered in response, and goosebumps appeared in the wake of his caress. So he did it again and again, did it until one bold finger traveled all the way up to the tender skin of her inner thigh. Even without touching her most private parts, he could feel her heat, and he inhaled deeply, responding to her on a level as old as mankind.

She surprised him by linking their fingers and guiding them straight to her center. He gasped, as she pushed his and her finger into her body, but so did she. All the blood in his system rushed southwards, and in an instant, he was harder than ever before.

"Bones! You're ruining my slow seduction," he complained, but he couldn't stop himself from touching her even deeper, and she pressed her pubic bone into his palm, creating friction and heat.

Pale blue eyes flew open, looking at him with innocence that shouldn't be possible to muster in a moment as sensual as this one.

"I couldn't wait," she simply said, and removing his finger out of her body cost him a lot of willpower, but then he was back on top of her, kissing her hard. Her legs opened for him, widened until he was settled right between her thighs, pressing against her in the most intimate way. Suddenly, he was crazy with needing her.

"Please?" she said, but he growled and buried his face in her neck, nibbling and tasting the delicate skin he found there.

Her hand moved between their bodies, encompassing his hardness, stroking firmly.

"I want more time," he uttered between licks and kissed, and then she used the strength of her legs to roll them around until she was sprawled out on top of him. Lifting her hand, Brennan palmed his cheek. He made eye contact, panting heavily.

"Booth... We have later today, tomorrow and all the time in the world. This is just the beginning. Do you understand?"

He looked at her, speechless for a moment, but then he nodded. She raised herself just a little, and his hands flew to her hips, supporting her. One moment, he was perfectly aligned, and just another heartbeat later, he was deep, so deep within her.

It was morning, but there were stars, as the connection between them flared to life.

Rolling her hips, she started to move, gripping him in the most intimate way; and he lost himself in her inch by sweet inch. She was so close, but still too far away. With his last ounce of strength, Booth brought himself into a sitting position with her on his lap. She shuddered, as he stroked even deeper into her body, and he wrapped his arms completely around her, but so did she.

And chest to chest, brow to brow, they started to move again.

The new position didn't allow for much room to move, but the penetration was deep and the angle perfect, as they were rocking back and forth, and back and forth, all the while holding each other in the tightest embrace.

And while their first time had been about forgetting, their second encounter was about remembering. Remembering the sharp intake of breath, when he sucked her earlobe between his teeth. Remembering the way his firm muscles rippled underneath her touch. Remembering the way she bit her lip, when her orgasm rolled over her; remembering his shuddering body, when he lost himself in her.

Remembering... until everything that was left was remembering how to breathe.

-BONES-

Over the course of their partnership, the course of their friendship, Temperance Brennan and Seeley Booth had shared many meals. But never before had they shared the most intimate of them all, the breakfast of lovers. Spring sun shone in through half-opened windows, finding them seated side by side at her table. She was wearing a cream-colored robe, her hair still damp from her shower, he was clad in nothing but boxers. None of them could stop smiling, and they were stealing glances at each other over big and steamy coffee mugs.

In the previous two days, eating hadn't been on the forefront of their minds, and both of them had been famished. He had already polished off an omelet, she was making great progress with her fruit salad and together, they were working on a stack of pancakes. His were drowning in a sea of maple syrup, hers weren't, but every now and then, she took a piece of fruit and dipped it into the sticky sweetness on his plate.

"That's so delicious," she declared while chewing. "You should try it."

He shook his head.

"Fruit isn't breakfast food."

"I'm sorry that there wasn't any bacon in my fridge."

He laughed out, his eyes sparkling.

"No, you're not."

She shrugged, sporting a mischievous smile.

"You're right. Booth, your eating habits are... a challenge."

His laughter deepened, and he gestured towards her plate.

"Come on, feed me some healthy crap."

Her brow furrowed, as she pondered whether he was serious, but he had already opened his mouth. Not bothering with a fork, she just took a piece of cantaloupe between her fingers, guiding it to his lips. Booth surprised her by capturing her wrist, lowering her hand until the cantaloupe touched the maple syrup on his plate. When he lifted the piece of fruit to his mouth anew, sweet syrup was trickling down her fingers. He took the fruit with his teeth, chewing with relish. However, he didn't release her hand, and when the cantaloupe was swallowed, he began to lick every drop of sweetness from her fingers.

She inhaled sharply, as the raspy surface of his tongue slid over her skin.

When he released her, his eyes met hers, and they were as dark as coals. Her heart skipped a beat, her lips parted, and very deliberately, she covered her fingers with maple syrup, offering them to him once more.

This time, he sucked a whole finger into his mouth, his tongue swirling over her phalanges. When she moaned low in her throat, he released her with a plop before getting up from his chair beside her. She watched with heavy-lidded eyes how he pushed the plates and mugs on the tabletop aside, and before she could blink, he'd transferred her from her chair to the table.

"Oh," she breathed with parted lips, but then her fingers were back in his mouth, and he was sucking her in earnest.

Heat coiled low in her belly, and a rosy flush covered her cheeks. When he let go of her, Brennan leaned back on the table until she was propped on her elbows.

"That was tasty," he said, his voice raspier than usual.

"Cantaloupe," she managed to respond, and he chuckled.

"Yeah, the melon was okay as well. But I'm still hungry," he said, his eyes roaming over her body.

"There are still pancakes on your..."

He rolled his eyes, and tugged at the sash of her robe. It came undone on the first try, and his mouth watered at the sight of her breasts. Milky-white and dusky-pink. Without further delay, he bent down, closing his lips over one nipple.

"_Oh_... I understand," she managed to murmur, but then she lost every interest in coherent words, as his palm joined in, touching what he couldn't kiss. Her hands flew to his head, raking her fingers through his hair, and he spend long minutes worshiping her chest.

Her heart was racing, and he could feel it underneath his mouth. With every thump-thump, he needed more and even more of her. His lips traveled down her body, finding impossibly smooth skin, and Brennan gasped, as he reached her bellybutton, as he placed an open-mouthed kiss on it.

She could feel wetness pooling between her legs, and when his nostrils flared, she knew that he could smell her. It could have been embarrassing, but it wasn't, not with him, not anymore, and she let her thighs fall open without hesitation, letting him see her.

Soon, his lips reached the dark triangle of short curls, and he blew air over her most intimate area. She shivered. His fingers joined in, following the curve of her pelvic bone, teasing her until she writhed on the table, and just when she thought that now, now – he stopped.

He stopped to take in the miracle of her so open and wanton in front of him, spread out on their breakfast table on a Saturday morning in April.

She opened her mouth to protest, but nothing more than his name tumbled from her lips, because finally, finally, he made contact. The flat of his tongue licked her once, twice from bottom to top, learning the taste of her, before focusing on her hard bundle of nerves. He growled, and the vibration so intimately close to her most sensitive spot sent a rush of heat through her system. The he sucked her straight into his mouth, and she was falling without safety net.

Her head hit the tabletop, and her hands were looking for some kind of anchor, anything. Her left hand curled around the edge of the table, and her right hand found his, squeezing hard.

It was too much, the need he unleashed, almost too much.

He lifted his head, linking his hand with hers, brushing her fingers.

"You okay?"

Yeah, was she? This was intense and scary, but it was also amazing and Booth.

"I'm adjusting," she whispered, and he inhaled a shuddered breath, placing a tender kiss on the inside of her thigh. And another one.

"You want me to stop?"

"No."

He was back in an instant, licking and sucking, but the pace he set was slower than before, allowing her time to let it build. His right hand joined in, caressing her in unison with his kisses, caressing her until her thighs began to tremble. He sank two long fingers into her just as his tongue rasped over her clit, and she lost it, coming apart almost violently underneath his hands and lips.

One second later, his boxers were pushed down, and without further delay, he palmed her thighs and entered her in one long stroke.

"Oh God," she gasped, utterly defenseless against the renewed onslaught of sensations.

"_Sorry, I couldn't wait, hope this is okay_." The words tumbled as one single line out of his mouth, and then her hands were on his face, pulling him in for a kiss. He tasted like her, so intimately, and on the wings of her first orgasm, another one was already building.

"It's okay, more than okay, always, Booth."

His rhythm was raw and lacking any finesse, but she didn't care, didn't care at all. With legs crossed behind his back, she held him firmly in place, as he was thrusting into her. It was only their third time, but already the feeling of him inside of her was familiar. Something fluttered low in her belly, as the realization hit her.

"Bones," he gasped, his face buried in her hair, and she clutched him even tighter, opened her legs even wider.

"Come for me," she whispered into his ear, and he howled, as he followed her command, tumbling over the edge and taking her with him.

Crashing on top of her and right next to lukewarm coffee and pancakes.

-BONES-

Morning has broken like the first morning, a song says. It's well known, this song. Most of the people can hum it, almost everybody knows the first line, but few, very few people can sing along till the end.

Sometimes a first line is enough, though, because... imagine the feeling.

Morning has broken.

Like the first morning.

To be continued...

_Actually, I have no idea if "The Hole in the Heart" is followed by a weekend, but I don't care. For this story, it is._


	3. Noon

III. Noon

Never before had she had so much intercourse in the span of a single weekend, and when Monday came, Temperance Brennan felt partly contrite and partly relieved to leave her apartment and go to work.

She kissed Booth goodbye in the Jeffersonian parking lot, and the situation was both new and utterly familiar at the same time. Using her thumb, she brushed lipstick residue off his mouth, and he pursed his lips to chase her fingertip. It was corny, but never before had she been on the receiving end of corniness, and Brennan hadn't expected to like it so much.

With every step she took, the tendons in her legs were aching from being wrapped around Booth's body over and over again. The memory was strong enough to send shivers down her spine, and she found it hard not to smile.

Booth loved her.

She loved Booth.

Angela only had to cast one glance at her best friend to know, and she rushed in for a fierce hug – at least as fierce as a hug can be with one carrying a fully developed human in their belly.

"Tell me everything," the artist demanded, and Brennan laughed out.

"Just to be clear, is this girl talk?"

"You can bet on it."

Brennan looked at her friend, pondering the concept of _what goes on between us should just be ours_ versus girl talk. Finally, she nodded.

"I'm very happy," she decided to share, and Angela was positively glowing.

"So, Booth and you...?"

"We love each other."

A discrete squeal, then: "Did you have sex again?"

"I believe the correct answer would be: Hell yes."

A mop of curls was rounding the corner, and then the voice of Jack Hodgins could be heard, searching for his wife.

"Ah, Ange, here you are. I just want to let you know that I'll be gone for about two..."

"No, no, no, Hodgins!" Angela cut him off, and he entomologist stopped and rolled his eyes at the déjà vu.

"Am I interrupting something? Again?"

"As a matter of fact, yes."

Brennan put her hand on Angela's arm.

"It's okay, Angie. Since my weekend was less productive than usual, I have to check my emails and get some writing done."

Another secretive smile was exchanged, as Hodgins shook his head in annoyance.

"Is there anything the two of you want to share with the class?"

Brennan's brow furrowed.

"Which class? Oh, I understand. It's an idiom."

Angela folded her hands over her belly.

"It's also a rhetorical question, so don't worry, Sweetie."

"Alright. See you later, then."

However, as she was walking into her office, her sore body telling the story of passion and so much more, Brennan was wondering.

Well... was there something she wanted to share with the class?

So far they hadn't really discussed the parameters of their relationship. Granted, they had declared their mutual love, had agreed on forever. But was she his girlfriend? Was he her boyfriend? And was she allowed or supposed to tell people?

There was only one person who could bring light into the darkness, so Brennan opened her laptop to phrase an email to Booth, but just before hitting "send", she deleted the whole thing.

Maybe she didn't need Booth to navigate her through this new territory, maybe she could just use her metaphorical guts. And Wikipedia.

_A girlfriend is a female friend or acquaintance, often a regular female companion with whom one is platonic, romantically or sexually involved. _

_Synonyms are: companion, partner, significant other, lover._

While she didn't like the term itself, Brennan came to the conclusion that she probably was his girlfriend just as much as Booth was her boyfriend. She scrunched up her nose.

Partner sounded better, way better, and somehow it summed up best what they've always been for each other.

Brennan decided to discuss her findings and feelings with Booth over lunch, but she really needed to focus on work beforehand. With determination, she scanned the emails in her inbox, answered two of them, printed another one and finally immersed herself in an article she was supposed to write.

Focus. She could do that.

-BONES-

Focus. He absolutely couldn't do that, not today, not on the first Monday _after_. After kissing her, touching her, making love to her. With no active case, there was no reason to contact Brennan before lunch, but Booth couldn't stop thinking about her.

A part of him was still shit-scared that she might change her mind, even though she rarely ever did that, changing her mind. However, this was so big that even he was dizzy trying to comprehend it.

Love. Faith. Commitment.

How scary must it be for her?

For the umpteenth time, his mind wandered back to the weekend. While there had been moments very raw with emotions, most of the time, they had been blissfully happy. She loved him, and she had told him so without hesitation. It had been fun, so much fun to be with her, and despite the tragedy of the previous week, Booth had felt whole and at home with her; a feeling he hadn't experienced in a long time.

He was...

"Knock-knock. Fancy a coffee break, Chérie?"

Caroline Julian's voice tore him out of his musings, and his lips curved up in a lopsided grin. He regarded the red-haired prosecutor plus the two mugs she was holding.

"Since you're never taking no for an answer anyways: come in."

She stepped into his office, taking a seat, and Booth felt scrutinized from head to toe. The back of his neck tingled, but he kept silent.

"I just went to see Broadsky. He confessed," Caroline finally shared.

Booth inhaled deeply and nodded.

"I know."

"How are you holding up."

"I'm fine, Caroline."

Her sole response was an arched eyebrow.

"Really. Look, his decisions, not mine. We got him. It's over."

Caroline hummed.

"And how's Doctor Brennan? I understand the killed intern was close to her."

His heart skipped a beat at the sound of her name.

"She's sad, of course. But Bones, she's strong. It'll be okay. She will be okay. _We_ will be."

Caroline observed him carefully. The hunch of a prosecutor – Booth could feel it.

"Truth be told, you look awfully chipper. Considering..."

"The weekend helped a lot to put things into perspective."

"I see."

"Caroline..."

Caroline Julian raised her palm, and Booth shut up obediently.

"I'm not here to pry around."

He grunted in surprised laughter, and she mustered the dignity to actually look insulted. Booth recovered quickly.

"I'm sorry. You were saying?"

"Contrary to your belief, I can be a discrete person."

"You made us kiss in exchange for a favor."

"Tell me you didn't like it."

"I didn't like the blackmailing."

"You were there for the steamboats, though."

Booth opened his mouth and closed it again, waving his hand in dismissal.

"Continue, please."

Caroline straightened her skirt.

"Where were we? Yes. Chérie, I wish you nothing but happiness and Dr. Brennan as well. In a weird and inexplicable way, you two are perfect for each other. If something good can be born out of so much pain... Let's just say it restores my faith in humanity."

She closed her mouth and looked at her counterpart expectantly. Booth smirked.

"So, you're not prying, then?

She shook her head.

"Absolutely not. And to make that clear, I'm leaving right now. You don't have to tell me anything."

True to her words, she grabbed her mug and got up. Booth watched her turn around on her heel, but before she was through his door, he called her name, making her stop.

"Yes?"

His voice was as candid as ever, when he spoke.

"She's the most beautiful person I've ever met. Beautiful inside out."

Caroline's face softened, as a big, fat smile broke out on his face.

"But she eats fruit salad for breakfast. Can you believe that?"

Understanding dawned, and Caroline winked at him.

"I'd hug you, but I see you're a taken man."

Booth shrugged, but then his face got serious.

"Look, we're not ready to broadcast the information, if you know what I mean. We need a little more time to adjust, time for us."

Caroline zipped her mouth shut, and with a final wave, she walked away, leaving Booth once more to his solitary musings.

-BONES-

Twelve o'clock sharp found Booth entering the light-flooded halls of the Medico Legal Lab. He nodded a few times on his way to Brennan's office, acknowledging Cam and another one of the interns. While he browsed the corners of his brain for the scientist's name and coming up empty, Booth vowed to himself to pay better attention to the squints in the future. Then he reached her office, and his steps slowed down, as he spotted her at her desk.

His heart did a funny thing in his chest upon seeing her, and Booth couldn't help but notice how stunning she was.

Then her pale blue eyes looked up, and a bright smile appeared on her face.

"Booth," she said, sounding just a little bit breathless, and his feet began to move again, walking in her direction, but halting once more in front of her desk.

"I just need to save this document, wait a moment... that's it." She closed her laptop and stood up. "I'm ready to go."

Grabbing her shoulder bag, she walked towards Booth, stopping just inches in front of him. He lifted his hand, but lowered it again right before touching her.

"Hi," he offered instead, very close to her face.

"Hi right back," she breathed, and her gaze darted to his lips and back to his eyes. "Booth... I feel the urge to kiss you."

He chuckled.

"Tell me about it."

"It's hard to explain without mentioning pheromones, and I know you'd hate reducing this to pheromones, so... There's a pull, almost magnetic, drawing me towards you. My heart rates quickens, and I find it hard not to act on impulse. Anthropologically speaking... well, you'd hate that as well."

His chuckles intensified, and she furrowed her brow.

"You didn't really want me to tell you about it, did you?"

"No, but thanks nonetheless. I... I feel the same. You know that, right? And please, never stop talking squinty."

"So, is there a rule about kissing?" she finally asked, and his hand found hers between them, grazing her knuckles.

"There's only a rule if we make one."

Footsteps outside her office reminded them of their surroundings, and with a last caress, he released her hand, stepping aside. Brennan straightened her back.

"The Diner?"

"What else."

-BONES-

She ordered a soup, he went with a burger plus extra fries because she had a tendency to steal his portion while never ordering one herself. They were seated at their usual table and everything was like so often before – except that it wasn't.

Booth shared the news about Broadsky, she told him about the email she had written to Vincent Nigel-Murray's family. He took her hand, squeezing briefly, and they accepted the moment of heartache before focusing on lighter topics like Angela's approaching due date and Parker's softball game.

Halfway through her meal, Brennan lowered her spoon.

"Booth. I'm your girlfriend, but I prefer the term 'partner'. 'Girlfriend' sounds so childish. Also, you're most definitely not a 'boy'."

He stilled, his mouth full of food, and there was an awkward pause while he swallowed and chewed.

"Works for me," he finally said, and she smiled, proud to have figured it out all by herself.

"Also, Angela knows about us. She guessed it, and I didn't want to deflect the truth. I don't want to lie to my best friend and I don't want to lie about us."

He opened his mouth, but she lifted her finger to signal that she wasn't done talking.

"However, I can assure you that I didn't share anything sensitive with her such as the size of your penis, the taste of your ejaculate or specific sexual positions we enjoyed."

Unfortunately, Booth had chosen that moment to drink a sip of water, and the next minute was spent in a coughing fit.

"Bones," he finally managed to hiss, and she gnawed her lip.

"Sorry."

He waved his hand.

"But, ah, thanks for not sharing those things. I appreciate it."

"What goes on between us is ours. I haven't forgotten."

"I've told Caroline," he finally blurted out, and a question mark appeared on her face.

"Was that wise?"

He shrugged.

"She kind of guessed it as well, and it was just like you said. I didn't wanna lie about it. I love you, and I'm done denying it."

Goosebumps appeared on her forearms, and she shivered. He noticed it, grazing her smooth skin with the back of his knuckles.

"It still moves me. Hearing you say it," she finally confessed, and his heart overflowed for her.

"I love you," he whispered once more, enjoying her soft gasp, and then she made eye contact, dazzling him.

He inhaled deeply, cupping her cheek over the remains of their lunch, and she leaned into his touch.

"I love you, too," she murmured against his skin.

"I don't want to get used to this, ever," he stated, causing her to laugh out.

"Statistically speaking, you will. The honeymoon period of a new relationship usually lasts between six months and a year."

The mood shifted, and he let go of her face.

"And what comes after that?"

She shrugged, resuming the task of spooning soup into her mouth.

"Just life, I guess. We go to work and catch the bad guys. I examine the remains, you intimidate our suspects. We have meals together, we watch a movie every once in a while. On the weekends, we can take Parker to the playground. I'll be a godmother soon, I need the practice. You can hug me, and we both know it's not a guy hug. Booth, I already promised you 'forever' in every capacity I'm capable of. This is not a fling, and you know it."

He looked at her for a few moments, rendered speechless.

"Bones, you're very, very good at reassuring me."

Again, she smiled that proud little smile.

"Well, I've learned from the best."

"So... Caroline promised me to keep it a secret. Us."

His voice trailed off. The ball was in her court, and she realized it.

"Do we want that? Keeping it a secret?"

Just like that, she played it back.

"Shoot me, but I have no clue, Bones."

"Honestly, I don't really care. We're solid, right? Nothing will change that."

"Hmm. I think I want to enjoy this for a little longer before spreading the news. Is this okay for you?"

She shrugged.

"Like I said, it doesn't really matter to me."

The rest of their lunch was spent with easy banter, and soon they were on their way back to the Jeffersonian. They said goodbye to each other with a smile, and Booth lingered to tie some loose ends with Cam.

Papers were shuffled around, and, once more, a friend was mourned. Comfort was offered as well as a handkerchief. Twenty minutes later, Booth was finally ready to leave for good. On his way out, he spotted Brennan on the forensic platform, the very same platform one of them had died on just a few days ago.

A streak of sunlight was streaming in, illuminating her face and her messy ponytail.

Once more, he was reminded of how short life was.

Reminded of how lucky he was.

One breath. And another one. His feet walked on their own volition, and Booth took the steps in a fluid move. The alarm cut into the air, as he entered the platform without swiping his card, and he saw surprise in her big blue eyes, but then her face was in his hands, and his mouth was slanting down on hers.

He noticed her softness first, then her warmth, as her lips parted for him. His tongue slipped into her mouth and was met by hers. She wrapped her arms around his midsection and, just like that, one rumor was confirmed and silenced once and for all. The alarm stopped, as someone else swiped their card, and he would've said thank you, but he was still holding Brennan, still kissing her for all he was worth; still putting the change in their relationship on display for everyone to see.

Slowly, very slowly the applause started, and when they finally broke the kiss, she hid her flushed face in his neck, panting into his collar.

"You changed your mind about not telling people, then?"

He pulled her into a tight hug, burying his nose in her hair, mussing it up even further.

"Sorry. Are you mad?"

"On the contrary, that was very effective. Plus, I got a kiss."

He found her lips anew, gentler this time.

"As many kisses as you want. Tonight."

"Yes."

They finally let go of each other, ready to face the cheering crowd. It didn't erase the memory of Vincent Nigel-Murray's blood, didn't take away the pain. But there was joy shared, right here in this place of death, and there was friendship evident in every hug, happiness in every cheer.

It was only noon.

But noon had never spread more hope than today.

To be continued...


	4. Evening

IV. Evening

In the history of the Medico Legal Lab of the Jeffersonian Institution, there had rarely been a less productive day than this sunny Monday in April, at least as far as Cam Saroyan could remember.

But then again, there had rarely been a less productive day in the history of Temperance Brennan as well, and she was one of the top-reasons why unproductive days in general were not tolerated in this lab, Cam mused.

Today was different. Following that very public display of affection, nothing work-related had happened for a while. It had been Brennan herself who had shooed Booth out of the lab at some point, who had broken off the happy gathering – but not before Angela could make her promise to go out for drinks tonight.

Cam didn't mind the distraction of the day, on the contrary. How do you go on after losing one of your own? Catching Broadsky had given them purpose, but now that he was behind bars, Vincent's death was like a gaping hole right on that damn platform.

Today, a spark had been ignited, had begun to refill that hole with warmth and happiness.

From her vantage point high above, Cam looked down at the lab that meant so much to her, at the people filling it with more than science.

She could see Angela and her very prominent belly waddling in the direction of her husband's office, could spot the slender figure of Brennan talking to an intern.

Temperance Brennan and Seeley Booth.

Cam thought about her own fleeting affair with Booth, but shook off the memories pretty soon. In comparison, they had never been more than friends with benefits. She had felt satisfied, very deeply satisfied and had told him so, but in a cosmic sense, they'd never belonged to each other.

Not like Booth and Brennan who, together, could shift the universe. At least it felt like that to every bystander, so palpable, so electrifying was their connection.

Cam sighed, her mind wandering once more to that kiss. The blood in her veins had turned to ice upon hearing the shrill alarm again, so shortly after losing Vincent. She had rushed towards the source of all anxiety, but had stopped dead in her tracks, mouth agape at the sight of Seeley Booth cradling his partner's face in his hands and kissing her. No, not only kissing. It had been a wordless declaration of love.

She was the first to admit that they made a beautiful couple, her ex and her star anthropologist. They had it all, the dedication, the passion. Cam squeezed her eyes shut, as the mental image of the two of them in bed popped up, and she shook her head.

"Not going there, Cam, not going there."

"Where are you not going?"

The smooth voice behind her startled her, but she recovered quickly and smiled.

"Trust me, you don't wanna know, Arastoo."

"I guess I have to take your word for that. Do you mind the company?"

Cam gestured at the spot on the railing right beside her.

"Not at all. Be my guest."

The intern stepped beside her, radiating calm and peacefulness.

"This is such a magnificent view," he finally stated, and Cam nodded.

"It puts things into perspective. How are you coping?"

Arastoo shrugged.

"I once went to a party and Vincent was there, wearing an iguana as a hat. Vincent drank too much that night, and the reptile escaped. We searched the whole dance floor before recovering it." A soft chuckle. "I will never forget that. We weren't exactly friends, but he was memorable. I'm glad I knew him. How are you? I gather the two of you were close?"

Cam shook her head vehemently.

"No, no, no. I'm gonna kill him." Remorse clouded her features. "Sorry, that wasn't appropriate. I was his boss, well, as much as Dr. Brennan would allow it. There was never an intimate relationship. In fact, he apologized to me for spreading that rumor just before... He apologized."

"Huh. That puts things into perspective as well."

"Besides, he was an intern. I could never... _no, no_, not even discussing this."

Dark eyes were scanning her features, and he was wearing an expression she couldn't read.

"So... never?"

His voice was soft, and why was she suddenly so warm? Cam inhaled deeply, shaking the weirdness off.

"You know, I put Vincent on rotation for that day. It was pure coincidence."

"It could have been me," Arastoo stated.

"It could have been any of us. You didn't sign up for this, I'm so sorry."

"Well, I knew about the fate of Dr. Addy and the liaison with the FBI before applying for the job. I'm a grown man, and working here has been my own decision – one I've never regretted."

One more time, something like velvet had slipped into his voice, and Cam blinked, allowing silence to settle between them. From her position on the railing high above the ground-floor, she noticed Booth entering the lab, and so did Arastoo.

"So... Dr. Brennan and Agent Booth."

Cam nodded with a smile.

"At least they gave us something good to talk about."

"I prayed for them."

Cam arched a skeptic eyebrow.

"You did?"

A gentle nod was her answer, followed by an elaboration even gentler.

"Their souls were so desperate to connect with each other, but the only thing stronger than their love was fear. Not anymore, I guess. At least, one thing is right in this universe."

He murmured something in a foreign tongue, finally shaking his head.

"I'm sorry, I got carried away. That was Farsi. When I witness true love, I'm still the little boy who's reading Rudaki for the first time."

Arastoo smiled apologetically, but for once, Cam didn't have a witty reply.

"No, it's okay. Actually, that was beautiful."

On the floor below them, a group of people had gathered. Booth was there, his arm around Brennan's shoulder, and next to them, Hodgins was kneeling in front of his wife, tying her shoelace.

"Oh, I guess that's my cue to leave," Cam finally realized. "Angela insisted on drinks to celebrate the new couple."

Cam turned to the man beside her, looking at him fully.

"Thank you for the conversation. And keep up the good work."

Arastoo gave her the hint of a bow.

"My pleasure. And thank you."

On her way to the ground-floor, Cam was wondering if his eyes were following her, wondering why it even mattered. But following her, they were.

-BONES-

Thirty minutes later, the group of friends was gathered around a table in a quiet corner of the Founding Fathers. It wasn't fancy, did rarely live up to the occasion, but on this Monday evening, there was comfort in the simplicity. Enough had changed already, and tonight, familiar was everything they needed.

Angela raised her glass of sparkling water.

"Thank you for this. I know, it's Monday and the past days have been intense. But," she pointed at her belly, "I'm on borrowed time, and I've waited six years for this toast. So, raise your glass." They all did it obediently. "To Brennan and Booth. To love."

"To love!" everyone replied in unison.

Brennan lowered her eyes almost shyly, and Booth pulled her close, placing a soft kiss on her temple.

"Thanks everyone. We appreciate it. It's, yeah, what can I say?" He scratched his head. "Finally!"

While the table erupted in laughter, Brennan leaned in.

"Finally?" she whispered. "That's it?"

He shrugged, grinning sheepishly.

"I already made a big impression once today."

Angela witnessed the exchange in amusement.

"Do _you_ wanna say something, Bren?"

Brennan cleared her throat and raised her glass.

"When I first met Booth, he asked me, 'Do you have faith?' I said no, of course I did. Over the past six years, I've been proven wrong again and again. Dr. Hodgins, you've even told me so when we were buried underground. I do have faith. In Booth."

She turned to him with her big blue eyes.

"Booth, I've spent years trying not to love you. When I finally saw the truth, it was too late. The past few months have been very painful. But, we're here now."

She laughed out, sniffling as a tear threatened to escape.

"On second thought, I realize that you've summed it up perfectly. Finally. Yes, finally!"

"Bones," he managed to say, but she was already falling into his arms, clinging fiercely to his shoulders. He kissed her hair, her cheek, everything he could reach, and she inhaled a shuddered breath. Eventually, she lifted her face, looking at her friends with flushed cheeks and just a touch of embarrassment.

"I'm sorry. All those feelings are still so confusing. I promise, I will get used to this."

"Please don't, Sweetie, it's adorable," Angela answered, her voice full of affection.

"Well, Bones, somebody smart recently told me that the honeymoon period of a new relationship usually lasts between six and twelve months," Booth tossed in, and Brennan rolled her eyes.

"Sorry, I'm late."

Unbeknownst to them, Sweets had joined the group, a bottle of beer already in his hand, and Cam pointed at the free chair right next to her. He plopped down onto it.

"So, what's the occasion?"

Jaws dropped, as Cam looked at Booth, Brennan looked at Angela, and Hodgins laughed out.

"Dude, you have no idea?"

Sweets wiggled his head.

"I assume we're celebrating life. It's only natural after such a profound loss."

Hodgins rubbed his hands.

"Ohhh, may I? May I?"

Booth waved his hand.

"Go ahead. But be gentle."

"As gentle as you were this afternoon? Well, never mind. Sweets, we're here to celebrate Booth and Brennan."

Sweets nodded, raising his bottle.

"That's only fair. Guys, you did a great job bringing Broadsky down and getting a confession. Awesome teamwork, as always. To Booth and Brennan."

He drank, just as Hodgins clarified.

"You're awfully dense for a psychologist. They're together. In love. A couple."

Cam was the unfortunate person sitting in between Sweets and Hodgins, so when the beer spurted out of his mouth, she was the one getting a shower.

"Eek!"

"No way! Sorry, Dr. Saroyan. I'm so sorry. But no way!"

Booth nodded.

"Yes way."

"Just like that? It happened? Finally?"

Brennan laughed out.

"There's that word again. Finally. But yes, Sweets, it happened. _We_ made it happen."

Underneath the table, Booth's hand reached for hers, and she clasped it gratefully.

"Man, I don't know what to say. This is huge! We have to talk about it." The psychologist's eyes sparkled with excitement, but Booth lifted his free hand.

"Stop right there, Sweets. You're here as our friend, not as our psychologist. Bones and I, we talk and we walk the talk. That's enough talking."

"But..."

"He's right, Dr. Sweets. I believe the correct term is: We've got it covered."

"Oh, Bren, I bet everything's covered very thoroughly."

A few snickers could be heard, and the psychologist's cheeks actually reddened. Booth observed it with interest.

"Sexual innuendos make you blush? Seriously?" he asked incredulously.

"I, I..." Sweets stammered, and Booth rubbed his palms, a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

"So when I tell you about..."

He was silenced by Brennan's hand on his mouth.

"Booth, you can't tell him about our sex life. He's only twelve! Besides, it wouldn't be fair since I wasn't allowed to tell Angela."

Everybody erupted in laughter, except for Sweets whose cheek color deepened even further. Eventually, Booth bumped his shoulder with his knuckles.

"Sorry, Sweets, that wasn't very mature."

"Nope."

"It's just... all those years I tried to intimidate you, and a simple sexual innuendo would have been enough? That's a cruel twist of fate."

"Well, it's you and Dr. Brennan. That's like, I don't know, like thinking about my parents having sex." He grimaced. "Just gross."

"Hey, we're not gross. We're beautiful." Booth exchanged a smile with his partner and winked at her. "Besides, you wrote a whole book about the two of us being in love."

"Love, yes! Not sex," the psychologist defended.

Brennan cleared her throat.

"Well, I can assure you, Dr. Sweets, that the difference between the two isn't as big as you might think."

Booth regarded her with pride written all over his face.

"Aw, look at my Bones!"

She tilted her head and smirked.

"I have a steep learning curve."

"I love your curves, Bones, all of them."

"Guys, please!"

And once more, laughter was shared.

Laughter, love and friendship.

One single evening in April couldn't heal everything, but it was a damn good start.

-BONES-

They went home together. It was the fifth night in a row, and Brennan wondered if there was some kind of rule. She pondered asking him, pondered the idea of spending the night alone, but in the last analysis, she had no desire to be separated from Booth.

She'd even been smart enough to pack an overnight bag with some toiletries and clothes in the morning, so there wasn't even a practical reason for leaving him tonight.

Brennan closed her eyes, as Booth was driving them through the fading twilight, through the twinkling city. She inhaled deeply. Calm, she felt calm.

This is what it's like, she mused, going home with Booth after a normal day.

Turning her head, she opened her eyes and studied her partner. His tie was loosened, his cheek stubbly; he looked like evening. His Adam's apple moved, as he swallowed. Booth was a perfect male specimen, she had always thought so, even before falling in love with him. And... was there even a _before_?

He harrumphed, tearing her out of her musings.

"Do you need anything before going home? Something to eat, to drink?"

"No, thank you. I'm fine."

"Bones, about my place... I didn't really have time to go back and clean after we left on Friday morning."

_Don't blame gravity for your lack of tidiness._

Images of a tiny circus trailer crossed her mind.

"I could talk to my housekeeping company and add your apartment to the contract."

He looked taken aback.

"You wanna send your cleaning lady to my place?"

"Actually, I have no idea if it's a lady. They come once a week during the day. I never see them."

"Bones, I'm not comfortable with some strangers sifting through my apartment in my absence."

She shrugged.

"It was just an offer. Think about it. I'm sending them to Dad's place as well."

"Hmm... Bones?"

"Yeah?"

"Will money be an issue?"

"You mean between us?"

He nodded.

"I mean, one of the reasons why I do the cleaning myself is money," he finally admitted.

She thought about his concern for an extra-second before answering.

"Money can only be irrelevant when you have enough of it. Obviously, it will hardly ever be an issue for me. Please tell me whenever I hurt your feelings, Booth. Money means nothing to me. Can't you just... I don't know, reap the benefits of my fame every once in a while?"

He laughed out.

"I promise to think about it."

"Booth, this is our fifth night together in a row."

Something like insecurity washed over his face.

"Do you need some space, Bones?"

"No, and that's unprecedented."

"That's a good thing, right."

A smile lit up her face.

"That's a very good thing. What about you?"

Unbeknownst to her, they had reached his apartment building. He cut off the engine and turned to her.

"I want to hold you in my arms tonight," he stated, looking at her with so much sincerity that it took her breath away.

"Yes, please," she murmured, and then his hand was in her hair, drawing her towards him. One heartbeat later, their lips made contact, and she sighed. Using the opportunity, he let his tongue slip inside. She wrapped her hand around his bicep, anchoring herself, allowing this kiss to unfold without hurry.

After all, it was Monday evening, only half past eight, nobody was dying, nobody threatening them. They had all the time in the world.

-BONES-

His apartment greeted them with a little bit of mess and a whole lot of coziness. Excusing himself for a minute, Booth started to pick up stray socks and shirts. Two mugs went into the dishwasher, the bedding needed some fluffing up.

A part of her wanted to study it, this domestic side of him, but convenience won. She carried her bag into the bedroom, opened it to retrieve a few items and went to the bathroom. The room smelled clean, like soap and Booth, and Brennan allowed herself a moment to just be. Never before had she felt so at home in someone else's apartment. Well, it wasn't someone else, she rationalized, it was Booth...

She unpacked her toothbrush, used it and put it next to his. A smile washed over her features, and the mirror reflected it back. Her face was next, and she scrubbed it clean with great care, removing the make-up of the day.

Outside, she could still hear him rummaging around, humming an advertising jingle.

Brennan took off her clothes, slipping into soft yoga pants. One of Booth's shirts was lying next to the tub, and she picked it up, bringing it to her nose, inhaling deeply. It smelled like him, but only slightly, and without overthinking it, Brennan pulled it over her head.

At last, she brushed her hair, pulling it into a high ponytail.

One bare feet, she left the bathroom, finding Booth in front of the open fridge. He had changed into something comfortable as well, and with his back to her, he started to speak.

"Good news, there will be coffee for breakfast, as well as milk, some cereals and an apple. Note to myself: grocery shopping. Hey, Bones, you want a beer?"

"That would be nice."

She leaned against the counter behind him, and when he turned around to give her the beer bottle, tenderness hit him hard. She was wearing his shirt again, and without any make-up, she looked so young.

"Evenings suit you," he murmured, and she smiled almost shyly, accepting the bottle.

"I borrowed your shirt," she finally said, stating the obvious, and he chuckled.

"It looks way better on you than on me anyways."

He closed the distance between them and surprised her by lifting her onto the counter. Then he took a seat on the stool right in front of her, and with a sigh, he placed his head in her lap.

With her right hand, she held the bottle, guiding it to her lips, but her left hand found its way into his hair, combing gently. A very content hum left his throat, and he burrowed into her even further.

"This is nice," he finally said, and something fluttered deep inside of her.

Booth was so strong, so adept, but here he was, relinquishing all his strength to her, surrendering himself to a gentle caress. Booth... she had seen him in peril, in action, in despair. She had never seen him so soft, so content. Being with him like this was so intuitive. She had lost a lot of time being afraid of something so simple, they both had.

"I'm sorry," she finally said, "for not understanding sooner. This. Love."

He lifted his head from its place on her lap, looking at her in surprise.

"This feels so right," he finally said, tucking some strands of hair behind her hear, and she nodded wildly.

"I know, right?"

"Last year... who knows, Bones, maybe everything had to happen. Had to happen for us to arrive right here where everything is good and just right."

She took another swig, pondering his words. Finally, she nodded.

"It's not rational, but I like that."

"It's not rational how much I like you."

"In fact, I think it's very rational. I'm very stimulating, both intellectually and physically."

"Hmm, come here, Ms. Stimulating."

He pulled at her, until she slid down from the countertop and onto his lap. Brennan wrapped her arms and legs around Booth.

"This is a very unstable stool."

He lowered his mouth to her neck, sucking gently.

She gasped, but protested nonetheless, "The stool is wobbling, Booth."

He put his arms firmly around her, and his palms cupped her buttocks.

"I've got you, Babe."

She rolled her eyes.

"This is very caveman-ish of you. Do you know how many sex-related accidents occur in the United States every year?"

His lips left her neck, and he looked up.

"Caveman-ish? Really?"

She shrugged, and he refocused on following her jawline with his lips. A sigh, then: "Booth... our center of gravity could shift in the midst of passion and the stool..."

He cut her off.

"I see that you're really worried about our current position. Let me put your mind at ease."

With that, he got up from the stool, simply taking her with him. She squeaked adorably and tightened her grip around his body. He winked at her.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you," she stated dryly, and he smirked.

"Let me put it like this, I wanna do very caveman-ish things to you and your body."

Brennan laughed out, and the practical grip turned into an embrace, as she began to enjoy his hold on her.

"Actually, it is widely assumed that prehistoric women were extraordinarily promiscuous to heighten their chances of reproducing. Sexual partners were shared just like food, shelter and other resources. The 'cavemen' were most likely forced to wait for their turn. It was agriculture that introduced the notion of property into sexual relations, causing men to worry about leaving land and animals to their biological heirs."

„Hmm. Interesting. Why don't we discuss this in the bedroom?"

He gave her his best charming smile, and her lips curved up in response.

"Sounds acceptable."

His apartment wasn't big, but nonetheless he managed to bump into some furniture and doorframes. His curses were matched by her giggles, and upon finally reaching his bedroom, he dumped her unceremoniously onto the mattress. Her giggles only increased, but then he jumped, landing on his forearms right on top of her. She gasped in surprise, and then she just gasped, as his mouth slanted down, covering hers with fire.

Metaphorically speaking, of course.

Her lips parted instantly, and so did her legs, and Booth shifted until he was nestled comfortably in the vee of her thighs. It was a perfect fit.

Her hands roamed over his back until one of them found its new favorite spot on his lower back. The other one wandered upwards once more, cupping his head and anchoring him in their kiss. Tongues met, stroking softly. Moan after moan was swallowed, and heat was pooling low in her belly, centering right between her legs; right there were he was pressed against her so intimately.

Eventually, he shifted his weight onto his left arm, finally enjoying the liberty of one free hand. He started at her cheek, using gentle fingers to graze the flushed skin. Soon his caress traveled down, meeting her jaw, her throat, her shoulder. He followed her arm till he encountered her elbow, then he continued at her side. She squirmed a bit underneath him, creating the sweetest friction, and he smiled against her lips.

Ticklish, she was ticklish.

His hand moved even lower to her thigh, palming the firm muscle he found there. He couldn't reach further down, but he wrapped his hand around her leg and lifted it until it was cocked.

He shuddered, as the heat between their bodies intensified, and then she tilted her pelvis a bit, pushing herself against him. A gasp left his mouth, and he broke the kiss, panting for air. Looking down, he found her equally breathless, but her eyes were the brightest blue and her lips swollen from his kiss.

Beautiful, so beautiful.

He might have said the words instead of thinking them because a smile lit up her features, and the hand that had been holding his head in place moved to his face, exploring it with infinite tenderness. Her fingertips brushed the beard stubble on his cheeks, and she couldn't help but think about his rough skin against even more sensitive parts of her body; and maybe she said that out loud as well, because he lost no time to pull his shirt over her head. Her skin had the color of spilled milk; spilled milk with a touch of pink and auburn.

Beautiful, so beautiful.

He was allowed to see her like this, hell, he was allowed to do a lot more than seeing her, Booth finally remembered, lowering his cheek to her chest, grazing her soft skin ever so carefully. He enjoyed marking her, but not like this, not when he might actually cause her discomfort. She sighed, her eyes closing in pleasure, as he walked the fine line between stimulating and chafing her. His tongue darted out, licking one puckered nipple before blowing air over it. She rewarded him with a shiver, and he did it again, this time with her other breast.

Eventually, teasing her wasn't enough anymore, he had to touch her for real. So his hands came up, cupping, stroking, squeezing until she was practically vibrating with need.

He was interrupted by her hands on his body; her hands slipping underneath his shirt and pulling at the fabric.

"I want you naked," she simply said, and Booth didn't know if it was his caveman ancestor answering her call, but he lost no time in obeying her.

"Quid pro quo," he stated while pushing his garments away, and she nodded, busying herself with the remainder of her clothes.

Then they were gloriously bare in front of each other, and after a few breathless heartbeats of mutual staring, they met like two magnets always do; it's simply inevitable. It was a blur of lips and hands and heat for the longest time, it was giving and taking, it was moans and gasps. It was need so brand-new, but so ancient at the same time.

Already, she knew how to touch him, just as he was getting familiar with her body's response.

Eventually, every kiss was shared, every inch of skin licked and touched, and there was only one thing left to do. He was back where he'd started, right between her legs, and holding eye contact, he made the final connection, pushing himself into her welcoming body.

Sensations overwhelmed him, as he started to move so deep within her, and he almost closed his eyes, but at the last second, he didn't.

It takes a lot of courage to make love with eyes wide open, but courage he found in her eyes, courage and so much more.

_It's a myth that a person's intentions and desires can be seen in the eyes._

Scratch that, he could. There was vulnerability, but there was strength as well. She was aroused and she was in love. He could see all that in her pale blue orbs and Booth assumed that she could find just the same information in his gaze.

Tremors began low in his belly, and he was still looking at her.

Eventually, her hand curled around the back of his nape, pulling him down. She captured his lips for another kiss, deep and wet, and then she guided his head to her neck. The caveman obeyed once more, sinking his teeth into her silken skin, marking her.

Because she wasn't a promiscuous primordial woman, she was his.

"Mine," he uttered, "you're mine."

A sharp gasp was his answer, and her thighs fell apart even further, her arms held him even tighter. There was distant pain, as her fingernails bore into his back, but he reveled in it.

Because he was no cavemen either, he was hers.

"I'm yours," he added, and he was lost, so wholly lost in her, as her body started to flutter and tremble all around him.

"Mine," she repeated.

Then there were stars. It was two million years ago and it was a Monday evening in April, here in Washington DC, right in his bedroom.

He fell onto her, utterly spent, probably crushing her, but she didn't care. There was sweat between their bellies, and she could feel fluids dripping out of her, and again, she didn't care. It was messy, but it was wonderful.

Little aftershocks were rippling through her body, and he was murmuring incoherent sweetness into her ear.

Her fingers came up to play with his hair, and just when his weight on top of her got a tad uncomfortable, he kissed the mark on her shoulder ever so softly before rolling down from her.

He drew her into his arms and pulled the blanket over their bodies. Her mouth opened in a yawn, and he chuckled, rubbing her back in soothing circles.

"You wanna shower now or in the morning?"

"Tomorrow morning is fine. But I have to use the bathroom."

"Hmm, me too. Now?"

"Now-ish."

"Another colloquialism?"

"I'm on a roll."

"I'm impressed, Bones."

"Booth..."

He could feel her thinking in the twilight of his apartment.

"Yeah?"

"I've always assumed that we would change, adding love and sex to the equation. But we're just the same. The banter, the bickering. Work, the Diner, Founding Fathers."

He smoothed her hair with his palm.

"Honestly, Bones, I think we've only added sex. The love was already there. I'd die for you, I'd kill for you. That's a fact."

Her heart skipped a beat.

"I accept your logic. Booth?"

"Hmm?"

"Now I have to go to the bathroom."

So she went.

And when she looked up after brushing her teeth and cleaning her face, the woman in the mirror was so beautiful that it took her breath away.

It was happiness, Brennan mused.

She had never been happier than this evening.

To be continued...

_Yes, I totally researched surprising facts about cavemen sex. _

_The next chapter will probably be the last one. I can't begin to tell you how much I'm enjoying this story._


	5. Fortnight

V. Fortnight

The sun comes up because the world turns. It was like that, predictable and reassuring. Temperance Brennan and Seeley Booth had entered a romantic relationship, and surprisingly, the universe remained unfazed.

The planet didn't stop turning and still, the sun came up.

Most of the time, it found them together, in his or her bed, back to back or arm in arm. However, after a week of impromptu cohabitation, Brennan needed to spend an evening alone. She had to write, and she needed some time to process everything.

Booth was worried, deeply worried, she could tell by the crease on his forehead. She reassured him as best, as she could: telling him she would come back and leaving her pajamas behind to emphasize the fact.

Rationally speaking, Booth knew that she had to leave at some point. Plus, he really needed some time to do the laundry. Unfortunately, knowing all this didn't help him at all. He'd never been clingy before, but he found it unexpectedly hard to let her go.

Part of him still couldn't believe that she had chosen to be his. The other part remembered a tearful night in the rain and her vulnerability.

She wants this, he told himself over again and again. She wants you, Seel.

He ran a few miles, insecurities in his wake. He did the laundry, folding boxers and feelings. And when he nursed his beer in the evening, flipping through the channels, he couldn't stand the sound of his own musings anymore. On impulse, he picked up his cell, browsed his contacts and hit "dial".

He used to annoy the shit out of him, their teenage psychologist, but at times he had proven to be insightful. Sweets picked up on the second ring.

"Agent Booth. That's a surprise. What can I do for you?"

"I'm just calling... to catch up."

Even to his own ears, this sounded thin.

"Of course you are. So... how's Dr. Brennan?"

"Fine, I guess. She's at home."

"Interesting. Did you guys have a fight?"

Booth shook his head before realizing how futile that was.

"Nah, no fighting. She just had some stuff to do."

Silence, then: "You're not calling to catch up, am I right? You want my insights on Dr. Brennan."

Booth scratched his evening beard and took a swag.

"Yeah. Maybe," he finally confessed.

"Alright, so... is this your first night apart from each other?"

"Yes."

Sweets nodded.

"You're agitated, partly worried about her, about the state of your relationship, partly annoyed because you're worrying in the first place."

His jaw dropped, and Booth was kind of glad that Sweets couldn't see him.

"Yes! Why?"

"Why? I tell you why. You're in love. You almost lost her once before, you experienced other losses so recently. Your reaction is perfectly normal. You know what else is perfectly normal? That she went home tonight."

"I know that, Sweets, I do. One of us had to go at some point."

"Dr. Brennan is testing the boundaries of your new relationship. She _assumes_ that she can leave for a night or two and come back then. But she doesn't handle assuming well, right? She has to know for sure. To her, you're a constant, but she has to test that rather than just assuming it. My advice: stay put and have some faith."

One more time, Booth guided the beer bottle to his lips, pondering Sweets' words. Faith... Did he have faith in Bones?

Immediately, his mind wandered back to the star-crossed night in front of the Hoover building. She had worn a white coat and the saddest look ever. Nonetheless, she had been the one crushing their hearts.

"You know what, Sweets? I'm still mad at you. You told me to end the stalemate, to be a gambler. So I pushed her, but I did it all wrong. I should have known better. Having faith was kind of my thing, but now it's harder than it used to be."

Another moment of silence, followed by a remorseful whisper.

"We all have paid the price for that. For what it's worth, I'm sorry. I truly am."

"Thanks."

Booth ended the call shortly after. Lighter, he felt lighter somehow.

An hour later, he switched off the lights and went to bed. In the darkness of his bedroom, he could find Brennan's scent on his sheets, and something moved deep in his chest. He thought about her PJs, freshly laundered and folded in his closet, thought about her toothbrush in his bathroom and the healthy crap in his fridge. A smile formed on his lips, as he pulled her pillow into his arms, inhaling deeply.

Evidence.

The ping of his cell tore him put of his musings, and then her words illuminated his lock screen.

_Goodnight, Booth. I love you. _

His smile deepened, as he typed his answer. Faith. He could do that.

-BONES-

Thirty-hours later, the first light of dawn found them back together, naked in tangled sheets.

Naked in tangled sheets – they were that a lot these days.

Nonetheless, sometime in the second week, he took her to a classy little jazz club, enjoying fine wine and heartfelt saxophone solos. She wore a black dress, killer heels and smokey eyes, and he reveled in the fact that she looked like that just for him.

He told her so between a kiss and a dance, and she put her head on his shoulder, tickling his mandible with her perfect curls. She smelled exquisite and expensive, but underneath all this was something utterly familiar, something that reminded him of guy hugs, take-away at midnight and fighting side by side with her.

"It occurred to me that maybe I should dress up for you every once in a while," she finally whispered, and her voice was as rough as silk. "A little make-up, alluring lingerie. After all, we only just began our sexual relationship and you saw me in nothing but your shirt way too often."

He swayed her gently and shook his head. His hand slid down her back, stopping just within the frame of modesty right above the curve of her ass.

"Hmm, this is beautiful, you are. I've always thought so, Bones. I've seen you wearing fancy dresses and sparkling jewelry. With your hair up or down or in curls. I've seen Roxy and Wanda. Oh, and let's not forget Wonder Woman." A soft chuckle was his answer. "But seeing you first thing in the morning... Or late in the evening, wearing nothing but my shirt. I can't begin to tell you how special that is to me. How special _you_ are. Sometimes, I still can't believe that I'm allowed to see you like this. That I'm allowed to touch you, kiss you, share my life with you."

Her face nuzzled deep into the crook of his neck, and she sighed.

"Booth..."

He pulled her impossibly closer, and eventually, she lifted her head and met his eyes. With her heels, she was almost as tall as he was, and she leaned in, brushing her lips over his. When she pulled back, his whole face was smiling, and he cocked an eyebrow.

"So... you said something about alluring lingerie?"

She laughed out, the husky kind of laughter that sent shivers down his spine, and her eyes sparkled.

"Very alluring indeed."

"Tell me."

His voice which had been so gentle just moments ago had turned dark and demanding. A flush appeared on her cheeks, and sudden wetness was pooling between her legs.

"Well, imagine tiny pieces of lace revealing more than they're covering. The color is called midnight blue."

He inhaled a shuddered breath.

"Can I see through it?"

"I believe you can."

"Tell me more."

She leaned in, her breath grazing his auricle.

"Well, currently the panties are wet because of you."

His low moan mingled with the saxophone solo and faded out.

They left shortly after that, and in the back of a cab, he placed his hand on her thigh, drawing soft circles with his thumb. She spread her legs just a few inches. There was a challenge in her eyes and a promise.

They made it inside her apartment, but only barely. She had just closed the door, when he pushed her against it, trapping her between the wooden surface and his body. He was hot and hard, and her head fell back, hitting the door with a dull thud. Instantly, his big hands were all over her, groaning as he encountered damp lace underneath her dress.

"I told you so," she breathed, while he stroked her through the flimsy fabric, increasing friction and need. Then the lace was pushed aside, and she could hear the sound of his zipper. Fully on board with his plan, she reached inside his boxers, pumping him firmly a few times. He lifted her up, just a few inches, and she guided him until he was buried inside of her.

One of them gasped, and then their mouths collided.

It was deep and wet and wild.

After two weeks of having sex with her, Booth knew that Brennan liked it rough every once in a while, so he didn't hold back, as he pushed into her. Her legs were wrapped around his waist, and she didn't even bother trying to support her own weight, fully knowing he could handle her.

Oh, and handling her, he did.

He took her, and she let him do it, enjoying his display of male strength. It wouldn't last long, she knew it, but she didn't mind, didn't mind at all. Not once had he left her behind unsatisfied, and on the rare occasions when he hadn't been able to wait for her to finish, he'd taken care of her later on. This wouldn't be necessary today, she could already feel the telltale need building so deep within. Little sparks of electricity were released every time he moved against her silken walls, hitting her just perfectly. She could feel his strong hands under her buttocks, could feel his teeth grazing her lips, could feel his strength in and all around her.

It was quick and uninhibited, but at the same time, it was still making love. It could never be anything less with him. It still amazed her how well sex and emotions could mix, and then he got her attention by whispering her given name.

"Temperance."

He rarely ever did that, after all, he had his own name for her, and she liked that. But whenever he used her first name, she felt as if her past and present were connecting, and it made it even more real, being with him like this.

Her mouth fell open, as her eyes bore into his, holding his intense gaze for a second before he thrust into her one more time, and she exploded.

Shivers and stars and fireworks.

It had been dark, so dark, but now it wasn't; would never be anymore.

When her senses came back to her, she found herself on the floor, halfway buried underneath Booth and halfway on top of him. His eyes were closed, and she lifted a gentle hand to caress his cheek.

He hummed, finally opening his eyes and pouting.

"I never saw your underwear and now we messed it up."

She laughed out, kissing his nose.

"I promise to wear it again sometime soon. But as for now..."

"You wanna have my shirt again?"

One more kiss.

"Yes please. You know, Booth, to me, this is special as well."

And the night was the day, only sleeping.

-BONES-

They walked so well on the ground of their new relationship, but in science and life, there are no heights without lows. They hit their first real low after thirteen days.

A case, a suspect, a take-down.

He told her to wait in the car, but had that ever worked before? Everything went to hell in a handbasket when their suspect surprised them with an accomplice.

Suddenly, a gun; a gun and hairy arms grabbing her. Her eyes were so wide and blue, and the blood in his veins was replaced by icy fear. It was a vortex-like experience, as his world zoomed in on the weapon at her temple.

No, no, no.

She was held at gunpoint for three minutes, three minutes that scared the living shit out of Booth. In the end, she escaped with barely a scratch and they made the arrest, but he was still so very cold inside.

Brennan knew she was in trouble when he refused to make eye contact. Rubbing her twisted arm, she tried to stay in the background, as he barked orders at his team, doing his cop thing. After half an hour, he was finally moving in her direction.

"Get in the car."

It was barked as well, but she found it wise to keep her mouth shut. Anger was radiating off of him, almost suffocating them in the driver's cabin of the SUV. He started the engine and steered the vehicle around the block.

"Booth..."

He surprised her by hitting the brakes, and before she could blink, he pulled her roughly into his arms, clutching her until her sore shoulder was burning like fire. She didn't complain and bit her lip instead.

"I'm so mad at you," he finally spat out, and she inhaled deeply. At least he was finally talking to her.

"I'm sorry," she offered, but he shook his head, still holding her way too tight.

"You risked the operation and, more importantly, you risked your life. Why? To prove something? To show me how tough and independent you are?"

"I'm your partner, Booth."

"Yes, you are. In every sense of the word. Bones, I can't see straight when you're in danger."

"But this is what we do."

"This is what _I_ do."

Lifting her head, she pushed him backwards, putting some distance between their chests.

"No, Booth, no. Do you remember the last time you told me to stay in the car? No? Me neither. This is what _we_ do, whether you like it or not. Our work partnership can't be compromised by our romantic feelings for each other."

Her voice was calm, but insistent, and her clear blue eyes were looking straight into his fear. He sucked in a breath, eyelids falling shut. Then her hands were cupping his cheeks and her lips fluttered all over his face, brushing cheeks, lids, lips. He inhaled once more, calmer this time, and let his head fall onto her shoulder, finally accepting her comfort.

"The thought of losing you is unbearable, Bones," he whispered.

"I feel the same, Booth, every day. Yet, here I am."

"How did you get so strong?"

He could feel her fingers playing with his hair, and suddenly the sound of her heartbeat was so utterly reassuring.

"It's worth it. Isn't that what you taught me?"

Slowly, very slowly his arms came back around her, but this time they didn't clutch, they simply held her.

And they survived.

He took her home that night and kissed her bruises, each and every one of them.

-BONES-

The blue on her shoulder turned purplish before it faded.

He bought her flowers, and she tried to keep them from withering for as long as possible. Eventually, they succumbed to the inevitable.

She found some of his colorful socks in her laundry basket, washed them and put them in her drawer. On second thought, she removed her own socks and cleared the whole drawer for him. Gnawing her bottom lip, Brennan stood in her bedroom, looking at all the space she'd made for Booth, enjoying the very literal picture. She told him about it that night, casually over lasagna and beer, and he scooped her up and made love to her right on the kitchen floor. The lasagna turned cold. Apparently, he liked his space, she concluded.

One Tuesday, Brennan met Angela for lunch. It was a godmother's job, she was informed, to make sure the mother-to-be wouldn't lose every ounce of patience while waiting for labor to start. Brennan took her to an Indian place and Angela ordered the spiciest dish on the menu, but nothing happened, nothing besides two friends catching up.

Brennan spent a few minutes eating and nodding while Angela talked about breast pumps and nursing bras, but then she leaned back in her chair, folding her hands over her belly.

"Speaking of bras... how's Booth?"

Brennan furrowed her brow.

"These topics are not related, Angela."

Angela arched a brow.

"They aren't?"

Brennan laughed out.

"Not as far as you are concerned."

"You look happy, Bren."

"I have to say, monogamy has grown on me."

Her best friend smirked.

"Oh, tell me."

"That's an idiom."

"Yes, but please. Tell me nonetheless."

Now it was Brennan's turn to lean back in her chair, as she tried to put the past two weeks into words.

Flowers, comfort, passion. Socks, dances, intimacy.

Eventually, she just shrugged and smiled.

"I'm lacking eloquence when it comes to describing us. He really, really knows me, and I really, really know him. Life is better with him around."

"Aw. Did you already give him a key to your apartment?"

Puzzlement washed over Brennan's face.

"About six years ago. Why?"

Angela sighed and waved her hand.

"Never mind, I briefly forgot that the usual relationship milestones don't apply here. This pregnancy is turning my brain to jelly. Gosh, I swear this baby is never coming out."

-BONES-

Despite Angela's prophecy, it did come out. _He_ did.

Michael Staccato Vincent Hodgins came into this world on the wings of pain and joy. He was loved, instantly, and love was woven around his parents; was woven around the little group of people who had gathered to welcome the infant.

Isn't if funny how someone so small can change lives with his simple presence?

Maybe it was because he was her godson, maybe it was because she was so in love with Booth, but upon holding the baby, Brennan experienced a mighty rush of feelings. She inhaled deeply, registering the sweet newborn scent, and across the room, she met Booth's eyes. Her belly did a somersault, and Brennan swallowed hard.

She gave the child back to his mother and hugged her friend. Angela had never looked more exhausted or happier, Brennan noticed.

Later outside, in the cold night air, she could still smell the baby's scent on her hands, could still remember his heavy warmth in her arms. Booth was walking beside her, and for a few minutes, nothing but silence was shared.

They were messy her thoughts, but wonderful.

She could sense him looking at her every now and then, and after a while, she slipped her hand into his.

"You're very quiet," she finally said, and he squeezed her hand.

"So are you."

"Their whole life is changing."

"Yes," he just said.

"They looked so happy."

"Yes," he said once more.

"I'm... confused," she finally admitted, and he chuckled softly.

"I know."

"How so?"

"I know you, Bones. You felt something. When you were holding him. Didn't you?"

"Yes," she admitted, casting a sideways glance at him. "But so did you when you watched me holding him."

He nodded, recalling the mental image of Brennan cradling a baby, recalling the fierce wave of protectiveness.

"Yeah, I did."

"Booth... I think I want that. With you."

He inhaled sharply and stopped, turning towards her.

"Are you sure."

Gnawing her lip, she nodded.

"Let's have a baby. Not now," she hurried to clarify, "that would be too soon. But... one day. One day not so far away."

A broad grin broke out on his face, and he took her head into his big hands.

"Yes," he whispered against her lips, and she could taste his hope, as he kissed her.

"Do you want to burn another paper slip?"

He pondered her question for a moment, but eventually, he shook his head.

"Nah."

A beautiful smile spread out on his face, and he nuzzled her nose with his.

"I don't need a paper slip, Bones. I've got faith."

-BONES-

Once upon a time, he'd told her that there's one for everyone, someone who's just meant for you, someone to share your life with. She hadn't believed him back then.

Over the years that followed, she was proven wrong over and over again.

Seeley Booth was her special someone, Temperance Brennan was sure of it.

She was sure of it when she said yes to him in front of a priest, she was still sure when first trimester morning sickness hit her, and even though she cursed him a few times, she remained sure during the endless hours of labor.

She was sure when she watched him playing hockey with their son, she was sure when he fell asleep next to their daughter.

They had become lovers in the deepest darkness, but it was just like people say: It's always darkest before the dawn, for their home was flooded with light, and he was handsome, and she was beautiful, but together... together, they'd always shone the brightest.

It was that simple.

The End.

_Thank you!_


End file.
